Knot Thot Rory

• Club Alpha -

The club was packed.

Good.

Rory had picked it for exactly that reason.

The place had a reputation for drawing Alphas from all over the city, and tonight it showed. The dance floor was a shifting wall of bodies beneath violet and electric-blue light, the bass hit hard enough to vibrate through the soles of her heels, and every few seconds some flash of jewelry, teeth, skin, or glass caught the neon and vanished again.

Rory fit right in.

Her dress was short, black, and tight enough to make subtlety somebody else’s problem. The hem skimmed high over her thighs, the neckline dipped low, and a pair of viciously tall heels made her already shapely legs look even longer. Gold jewelry glinted at her throat and wrists whenever the lights swept over her, and the pink ends of her blonde hair picked up the color around her until they almost seemed to glow.

Two drinks in, she felt warm, loose, and very ready to enjoy herself.

Not drunk.

Just past the point of pretending she had come here for anything other than exactly what she wanted.

Rory slipped through the crowd with a drink in one hand, hips moving easily with the music while her eyes roamed.

Alpha.

Alpha.

Definitely Alpha.

Her gaze lingered here and there without shame. A broad chest across the room. A sharp grin near the booths. Someone tall enough to stand above most of the crowd. Another with the kind of build that made her eyes dip before she even bothered checking their face.

“Mmm.”

The tiny sound disappeared beneath the music.

Rory took another sip and leaned back against the bar, one heel hooked lightly behind the other as she watched the room work itself into a fever.

She wasn’t waiting for anyone.

She wasn’t here with friends.

She had come alone because that meant she could leave with whoever she pleased.

A nearby Alpha tried to catch her eye. Rory gave them a once-over, smiled just enough to make it clear she noticed, then turned her attention elsewhere.

Not yet.

She wanted to see what else the night had to offer.

So she stayed where she was for a while, bright-eyed and restless beneath the neon, drinking, dancing when the beat pulled her in, letting attention slide over her without immediately rewarding it.

Rory was hunting.

She just hadn’t decided what she wanted to catch yet.

• Meet Cute Café -

It had been one of those rare shopping days where everything had gone right.

No crowds bad enough to sour anyone’s mood. No stores mysteriously out of every decent size. No shoes that looked perfect on the shelf and hideous on foot. Even the weather had cooperated, warm without being oppressive, with just enough breeze to keep the outdoor shopping district comfortable.

Rory was thriving.

By mid-afternoon, the four of them had worked their way through boutiques, cosmetics counters, a jewelry shop, two shoe stores, and one designer storefront Rory had insisted they were “just going to look in” before emerging twenty minutes later with another glossy bag.

Most of those bags were currently hanging from Brayden.

It had happened gradually throughout the day, as it usually did. Rory bought something, handed the bag over without much thought, and Brayden took it just as casually. By now, two large shopping bags hung from one hand, another pair from the other, and several smaller ones had been looped over his wrist. Rory carried exactly one little branded bag herself, mostly because it contained jewelry and she didn’t trust anybody else with it.

Rory looked back at him over one shoulder as they approached the café, sunglasses pushed up into her hair. “Still good back there?”

Brayden shifted the handles into a more comfortable position and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got them.”

Mika laughed beside her. “At this point, I think Rory assumes you’re part bodyguard, part shopping cart.”

Brayden gave Mika an amused look. “Pretty much.”

Rory only grinned and kept walking.

The café sat along the quieter edge of the luxury shopping district, all pale stone, polished brass, immaculate greenery, and wide planters spilling with little white flowers. Cream-colored umbrellas shaded the patio, and soft outdoor curtains shifted lazily around its edges whenever the breeze came through. The tables were spaced far enough apart that conversations did not overlap, leaving the whole place feeling expensive without being stiff.

Beyond the railing, people drifted between storefronts carrying their own collections of bags while sleek cars rolled slowly past in search of parking.

Rory slid into one of the cushioned chairs with a pleased little sigh.

She had dressed for walking, shopping, and being looked at, roughly in that order.

Her blonde hair was down, parted to one side and loose around her shoulders, the pink ends catching warmly in the afternoon sun. Oversized sunglasses had spent most of the day either over her eyes or pushed up into her hair, and her makeup was softer than what she wore out at night, though still polished enough to make her eyes stand out.

A fitted cream-colored cropped tank hugged her torso and stopped just above the waistband of low-rise, dark-wash jeans that fit her hips almost indecently well. The jeans flared slightly toward the ankle over heeled sandals that were comfortable enough for several hours of shopping but still gave her legs and posture exactly the lift she liked. A thin gold chain rested against her collarbone, joined by several delicate bracelets and small hoop earrings that flashed whenever she turned her head.

Sexy, but not dressed for a club.

This was Rory running errands.

Brayden carefully lowered the collection of bags beside his chair before sitting across from her.

“Thank you, Bray,” Rory said sweetly as she set her little jewelry bag beside her phone.

Brayden opened his menu and glanced at her over the top of it. “You’re welcome.”

Mika settled into the chair beside Rory and nudged one of the shopping bags farther beneath the table with her foot. “I still think we should count all of these before we leave. Rory keeps insisting there are only seven bags, and I refuse to believe her.”

“There are seven purchases,” Rory corrected, already reaching for the drinks menu. “Some stores double-bag things. That is not the same.”

Jules sat down in the fourth chair and removed their sunglasses. “You know you’ve had a successful shopping day when accounting standards have to be invented to defend it.”

Rory gave them a pleased little smile. “Exactly.”

For a few minutes, the conversation wandered naturally through the day.

Mika complained about a pair of shoes she had almost bought until she realized the heel felt unstable. Jules showed Brayden a jacket they had taken a photo of but had not been able to justify buying. Rory insisted they should go back for it before leaving the district. Brayden looked over the photo again and agreed that Jules would probably regret leaving without it.

Eventually, Mika’s attention landed on Rory’s smallest bag.

“What did you end up buying from the jewelry store?” Mika asked, reaching for her water glass. “You disappeared into the fitting room with that woman and then came back looking way too pleased with yourself.”

Rory immediately brightened. “The gold body chain.”

Mika’s expression shifted as she remembered it. “The one that went down your stomach?”

“Mm-hm.” Rory nodded and set her menu down. “It looked amazing. I almost didn’t get it because I wasn’t sure I’d actually wear it enough, but she brought out the shorter version and that one sat perfectly.”

Jules looked up from their menu. “Was that before or after you asked whether it would snag if somebody grabbed it?”

Rory’s smile widened.

Across from her, Brayden slowly lowered his menu.

“You asked that?” he said, sounding genuinely curious.

Rory shrugged without the slightest embarrassment. “I wanted to know. If I’m buying jewelry that sits against my body, I’d rather find out in the store whether it’s going to break the first time somebody gets enthusiastic.”

Mika covered a laugh with one hand. “That is such a specifically Rory way to evaluate jewelry.”

“It’s practical,” Rory insisted, though she was clearly amused too. “You all make fun of me, but I’m the one who won’t end up snapping an expensive chain because I didn’t think ahead.”

Brayden nodded slowly. “No, I’ll give you that. Your reasoning is insane, but it is technically reasoning.”

Rory pointed toward him. “Thank you.”

Jules smiled and leaned back in their chair. “I just like that most people would think about whether a necklace matches their clothes. Rory is apparently doing stress testing for sex.”

Rory laughed and reached for the drink menu again. “I can think about both.”

Mika shook her head, smiling. “That’s the thing, though. You’re picky about almost everything. Clothes, food, drinks, hotels, shoes. You sent back a martini last month because you said the olives looked depressing.”

“They did,” Rory said, immediately serious. “They looked like they had given up.”

Brayden let out a short laugh and looked down at his menu again.

Mika continued, “But when it comes to Alphas, some of those standards become very... flexible.”

Rory gave her a skeptical look. “That’s not true.”

Jules glanced between them. “She still has standards. I’ve seen her reject people plenty of times.”

“Thank you,” Rory said, nodding toward Jules.

Jules smiled. “They’re just very specialized standards.”

Rory narrowed her eyes.

Mika laughed softly. “Face matters. Confidence matters. Hygiene definitely matters. Personality probably matters eventually.”

“Eventually?” Rory said, offended enough to be funny.

Brayden finally joined in, resting one forearm on the table. “Come on, Rory. You know exactly what they mean.”

Rory looked at him. “Do I?”

Brayden’s expression stayed perfectly calm. “You once interrupted a completely unrelated story at dinner because an attractive guy walked past and you thought he had ‘suspiciously good thighs.’”

Rory stared at him for a moment before smiling. “They were suspiciously good.”

Mika laughed again. “See? This is what I mean.”

Rory leaned back in her chair, entirely comfortable with where the conversation had gone. “I notice things. I’m observant.”

Jules raised an eyebrow. “You’re observant about one category of things.”

Rory smiled lazily. “Important things.”

There was a brief pause while they looked over their menus again.

The breeze shifted Rory’s hair over one shoulder, and she tucked it back as she scanned the lunch section. Around them, glassware caught the afternoon light, soft music drifted through the patio, and someone farther down the café laughed loudly enough to turn a few heads.

Mika looked over at Rory after another moment. “You know what I actually find funny? You’ve never even tried to pretend you aren’t a knot thot.”

Rory looked up from the menu.

There was no offense in Mika’s voice, only fond amusement, and Rory clearly took it that way.

“Why would I?” Rory asked with a little shrug. “I know what I like.”

Jules smiled. “You know what you like with impressive specificity.”

“That’s healthier than being confused,” Rory said.

Brayden leaned back in his chair, one ankle resting over the opposite knee. “I don’t think anybody has ever accused you of being confused.”

Rory laughed. “Exactly.”

Mika rested her chin against one hand. “Would you actually call yourself that, though? A knot thot?”

Rory pretended to think about it.

Her lips pursed thoughtfully for a second, but the smile was already there.

“Honestly?” Rory said. “Sure. I’ve been called worse, and at least that one is accurate.”

Jules laughed.

Rory continued, warming to the subject. “Besides, I’m not hurting anybody. I like Alphas. I like cock. I really like knots. Everybody at this table already knows that. Half the city probably knows that.”

Brayden looked toward her with open amusement. “Half the city?”

Rory gave him a pointed look. “A tasteful percentage of the city.”

“That sounds much better,” Brayden said.

Rory reached across the table and lightly tapped the edge of his menu with one manicured finger. “You know, for somebody who hears about my sex life as often as you do, you’re remarkably calm about all of this.”

Brayden smiled and folded the menu halfway closed. “I’ve known you too long for any of it to surprise me.”

Rory giggled and sat back again. “Fair.”

The conversation drifted again after that, moving from food to the rest of their plans for the afternoon, then back to shopping when Jules admitted they were still thinking about the jacket from earlier.

The teasing never really stopped, but it no longer dominated the conversation either. It surfaced naturally whenever Rory gave them an opening, and Rory seemed to enjoy it as much as they did.

There was no embarrassment in her.

If anything, she seemed almost pleased that her friends knew her well enough to tease her about it.

The shopping bags sat in a colorful pile around Brayden’s chair.

Mika was debating between two entrées.

Jules had started investigating the cocktail list despite claiming earlier that they were only getting water.

Brayden was relaxed across from Rory, perfectly content to let the afternoon unfold at its own pace.

And Rory, comfortable in the afternoon sun with her menu open in front of her and a smile lingering on her face, looked entirely content.

It had been a very good day.

And it wasn’t over yet.

• Not so Professional -

Rory had learned a long time ago that getting ready for work was half ritual, half performance.

By the time she slid into the passenger seat of Brayden’s SUV, she was already completely put together.

To anybody watching from the outside, there was nothing particularly unusual about her outfit.

The wrap dress was deliberately simple, long and fluid, made from soft black fabric that fell all the way to her ankles. It crossed neatly over her chest, cinched at the waist with a matching tie, and had loose sleeves that ended just below her elbows. Paired with oversized sunglasses, a small handbag, and understated heels, she could have been headed to lunch, an appointment, or somebody’s quiet afternoon event.

That was the point.

Underneath it was an entirely different story.

Rory had chosen a black-and-pink lingerie set for the appointment, one of the prettier combinations in her PineFresh rotation.

The bra was sheer black mesh with delicate pink embroidery curling over the cups, structured enough to lift without looking heavy. Thin satin straps sat against her shoulders, and a tiny pink bow rested between the cups. The matching panties rode high over her hips, mostly black mesh with the same pink detailing worked along the front and narrow satin straps disappearing around her sides.

A slim garter belt sat snug around her waist, decorative as much as functional, with four narrow straps trailing down to sheer black thigh-highs. The stockings hugged her legs in a barely-there veil of black, finished with wide bands of floral lace high on her thighs and delicate satin trim that matched the pink accents of the lingerie. A subtle back seam ran from heel to lace, drawing the eye up the length of her legs and making the entire set feel a little more deliberately provocative.

Her heels were glossy black, tall but stable enough to actually work in, with narrow ankle straps and a shape that made her legs look especially long once the dress came off.

Nothing about the lingerie was accidental.

Cute enough to feel playful.

Sexy enough to make the entire purpose of PineFresh extremely obvious.

And practical enough that Rory could still bend, reach, carry supplies, and actually clean without spending the entire appointment adjusting herself.

Her blonde hair was worn down today, smooth and loose with the pink ends curled just slightly inward. Her makeup was polished without being nightclub-heavy, with defined lashes, soft pink lips, and enough shimmer at the inner corners of her eyes to catch light whenever she turned her head.

A small pair of gold hoops and a thin necklace finished the look.

Rory checked herself once in the visor mirror, touched one finger beneath her lower lip, then snapped it closed.

“Good?” Brayden asked from the driver’s seat.

Rory turned toward him. “Very.”

Brayden gave her a brief glance and nodded. “You look ready.”

Rory smiled. “Always.”

The SUV was parked a short distance from the address, close enough for Brayden to reach her quickly if she needed him but far enough away that he wasn’t sitting directly in front of the client’s house like an armed chaperone.

The tablet rested in its usual spot near the center console, along with a bottle of water and the remnants of whatever Brayden had been eating on the drive over.

Rory glanced toward the house again.

First appointment.

Those always carried a little extra curiosity.

She knew the basics, of course. The booking information had been verified, the address checked, and the usual PineFresh rules agreed to ahead of time. But that still left a lot unknown.

The client.

The house.

Whether the place was immaculate and they simply liked the service, or whether Rory was about to walk into three weeks of dishes and a bathroom capable of developing its own ecosystem.

More importantly, she had no idea what the person on the other side of that door would actually be like.

Rory picked up her phone and checked the appointment details one more time.

Brayden glanced over. “Nervous?”

“No.”

Rory thought about it.

“Curious.”

“That usually means nervous with better branding.”

She turned and stared at him.

Brayden smiled faintly.

Rory tucked her phone into her handbag. “I’m not nervous. I just like knowing what I’m walking into.”

“That is generally considered a healthy instinct.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

Rory laughed, reaching behind her seat for the compact cleaning caddy she had brought with her.

Brayden took it before she could fully pull it forward and handed it over.

“Text when you’re inside.”

“I always do.”

“And if anything feels off?”

“I know.”

Brayden nodded.

There was no lecture attached to it.

They had done this too many times for that.

Rory checked that the tie on her wrap dress was secure, slipped her handbag over one shoulder, and picked up the cleaning caddy.

Before opening the door, she looked back at Brayden.

“How long do you think?”

“For you?”

He glanced toward the house.

“Two hours if it’s clean. Three if it’s bad. Four if you get distracted.”

Rory smiled slowly.

“I never get distracted.”

Brayden just looked at her.

Rory held his gaze for another second before breaking into a grin.

“Okay. Rarely.”

“That word is doing some work.”

“Bye, Bray.”

“Have fun.”

Rory stepped out of the SUV and shut the door behind her.

The afternoon air was warm but pleasant, and the hem of the wrap dress moved lightly around her ankles as she crossed toward the house.

Her heels clicked softly against the pavement.

She adjusted the cleaning caddy in one hand, smoothed the front of her dress with the other, and took in what she could of the property as she approached.

Nothing immediately concerning.

Nothing that gave much away, either.

Which only made her more curious.

At the front door, Rory shifted the caddy comfortably against her hip and pressed the doorbell.

Then she waited.

A few seconds passed.

Movement sounded somewhere inside.

Rory automatically straightened a little, her professional smile settling into place.

The lock turned.

The door opened.

And whatever polite greeting Rory had prepared stalled before it could reach her mouth.

Her eyes lifted.

Then lingered.

The smile changed.

Just slightly.

“Oh…”

The word came out softer than she intended, unmistakably pleased.

Rory recovered quickly, though the look in her eyes did not.

She smiled wider.

“Hi. I’m Rory, from PineFresh. You must be my afternoon appointment.”

Then, still very clearly enjoying whatever she had just discovered on the other side of the door, Rory stepped inside.